A Small Token
by Evela Skye
Summary: Hermione recieves a parcel, what is it and who is it from? - one shot -


A Small Token

The parcel arrived without a flurry of excitement, it was a small box and wrapped in brown paper and string.

The post office owl placed it carefully in front of Hermione and flew off again with all the other owls in the great hall. Hermione carefully surveyed the box. The brown paper, which was neatly wrapped around the parcel, was old and had definitely been used before, there were creases in the paper that didn't match the edges of the cube. The string was old too, being slightly fuzzy and soft under Hermione's fingers.

Her name and address were written neatly in block capitals, making it difficult to find any individual handwriting style.

At first Hermione thought that this was some potion ingredient that she had ordered and then forgotten about, but the worn paper made her realise that, that couldn't be the case. Breakfast was coming to an end so whatever it was would have to wait in her dormitory.

And so the parcel sat, hidden and safe. However as it sat, it did draw Hermione's thoughts to it making her query what was inside and who had sent it. Hermione was tempted, before dinner, to go and open the box in a rush, like she had wanted to all through the day. She knew better than that though, a mystery like that should be unravelled slowly, piece be piece not discovered in a shock. So she put herself through the torture of a long dinner, eating slowly and allowing herself to be distracted by the conversations Ron and Harry dragged her into. Neither of them noticed that she wasn't wholeheartedly taking part. Then again they rarely noticed much about her recently. Their distance however, was not out of neglect, but respect. They knew she was different to them and so gave her due space to explore beyond their boundaries. It was this that prevented Harry, even though desperately curious; from asking what was in the parcel she received this morning. If it was important she would tell him.

The parcel was lifted carefully from under the bed. It was safe from view hidden behind the fabric that was her valance. She drew the curtains around her bed, enclosing herself in. there was no one else in the room but she still desired this greater degree of privacy.

The little bow sat inches from a cross-legged Hermione, who sat perplexed. The one idea she did have as to the mystery was too far fetched for anyone to believe. Now this little bow was sitting there, daring her to open it, rip its paper, and release the string.

She took a deep breath and as she exhaled she pulled at the slightly frayed string. As it fell from the box the paper folds at the joins sprang lose, jutting out teasingly, begging to be completely released from its folded prison. Hermione carefully felt the worn paper, feeling how the smooth shiny side differed from the furry, rough side, which unusually was positioned on the outer side of the parcel.

The box underneath the plain paper was just as uninteresting, being just a simple cardboard box. Hermione was on the verge of frustration, so didn't linger on the outside of the box. The lid was lifted slowly to reveal a mass of shredded, silver tissue paper, half of which she carefully removed and placed on the bed spread beside her. Being concealed by the paper was a small black velvet box. Hermione reached into the remainder of the silver sea and set out to retrieve the velvety box. It was as she lifted out that she noticed the folded piece of parchment that sat underneath. The gift itself forgotten for a second as she opened the creamy soft paper.

A small token for My Gryffindor Princess 

Were the words that greeted her from the page, written in black ink conveyed in a simple but elegant and sophisticated hand. She studied for a few moments, not sure if she recognised it. Defeated she turned her attentions back to the secretive box. It had a small metal catch, which she had to open with care. The lid was opened with trepidation and sat inside on a sea of black silk lining was a silver chain. On this silver chain hung an intricate pendant concerning swirls of silver encircling a smooth black stone. Hermione lifted it from the box; she felt the flat, smooth cold of the stone beneath her fingertips. She let it bounce in her palm and felt the weight of it. It occurred to her that it contained more than just silver and stone. So holding the pendant between forefinger and thumb and drawing back the curtain a little way, she held it up to the light.

What she saw within the stone left no doubt who had sent the gift. It seemed her first far-flung idea was right. Images of her and images of him as only he saw them, together. The weight, she guessed was time, their time together so far and that to come.

She smiled to herself as she put the gift in her pocket, grabbed a notebook and left her dormitory.

She continued smiling as she made her way through the old stone corridors of Hogwarts. The chill in the air was not what was making her tremble as she approached his door. Her smile put on hold; she knocked on the old, worn wood.

Footsteps.

The creaking as the light from the open door spilled into the corridor.

Pulling the gift from her pocket and holding it out in front of him, the pendant swinging gently as she asked

"Does this make you my prince?"

He replied arching his dark eyebrow, his lip curling into a smile.

"Did you want anything else Miss Granger?"

She lifted the notebook, she brought her smile back into action.

"I would like some help with my homework Professor Snape."


End file.
